


Scribbles.

by captainskellington



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, fallen!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainskellington/pseuds/captainskellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wasn't the only one who kept a journal.<br/>Old habits die hard.</p>
<p>When Dean has time or needs to think or remember, he writes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scribbles.

**Author's Note:**

> I write on my phone at stupid times of night so I'm really sorry for any grammar or spelling or formatting issues.  
> This is the first thing I've ever published and I'm not 100% happy with it but then I never really am so uh yeah I hope you enjoy.

Growing up, Dean Winchester always used to try so hard to be like his father, we all know that. What we don’t realize is that old habits die hard. And John wasn’t the only one who kept a journal.

He keeps it buried right at the bottom of his duffel bag, hidden amongst a few old skin mags and empty bullet casings and other random bits of debris that would keep any snoopers (here’s looking at you, Sam) at bay. It isn’t anything special to look at, per se. Just your average lined notepad, well known to any run of the mill kid attending elementary school. (One of those ones with the funky black and white covers, they kind of resemble static, or what appears behind your eyes if you rub your eyelids too long. You know the ones I mean?)

Nobody would even give it a second glance next to all the tattered leatherbound volumes on ancient spells and rituals, centuries-old myths and folklore, and occasional Latin pronunciation guides to be found in Sam’s luggage and the remnants of Bobby’s library.

But to Dean, it’s every bit as important.

Entries are scattered through the journal like leaves in the wind. Not many, but initially all of them something he felt he needed to remember.

The earliest few pages written in loopy scrawls of graphite mostly consist of hunting tips: what scares what kind of monster, precise instructions for cleaning and taking apart guns. There are quick sketches of random items: the amulet from Sam, Bobby’s cap. A really bad Impala. (That one always makes him smile to look at.) Some childish, tantrum-like entries. A couple of recipes for Sammy’s favorite meals, things he wanted; those are written neatest.

The writing quickly becomes jagged and brief: blunt sentences, things that can’t actually have been too important as he’s now forgotten them almost completely. It disappears nearly entirely after its most abrupt entry, simply reading ‘Gone.’

Entries after John’s disappearance and Sammy’s return are few and far between. After his death, even fewer. It just stopped being important. He didn’t want to remember, just tried to forget.

But then something became important enough to merit a return to taking note.

What follows are some summarized journal entries of one Dean Winchester. [Please refrain from mentioning to him that you’ve seen them.]

  * _SAMMY IF YOUR READING THIS GO AWAY THIS IS NONE OF YOUR BUSNESS GO AWAY_ [scrawled big and bold on the front page. Don’t worry; his spelling and grammar do improve over time. Marginally.]
  * _Vampier movies = NOT TRUE!! u dont steak u behead!! or use dead mans blood! MOVIES LIE!_
  * _Iron salt fire iron salt fire iron salt fire_
  * **_ASK DAD FOR LIGHTER_** _[underlined twice]_
  * _ask uncle bobby where to get holy water_
  * [Some precise measurements and information about the Impala, places to purchase spare parts, etc. Difficult to read - taking notes while John spoke?]
  * _SAM BDAY???????_ [lists of books, movies, comics. A recipe for cake. Receipt for cheap ingredients found tucked into pages. Icing smudged over last instruction.]
  * _:):):):):):):):)_
  * _girls suck girls suck girls suck girls suck girls suck [repeat to cover half of page, scored out.]_
  * _movies lie._
  * _ask uncle bobby if basilisks are real_
  * _if somebodys creepy say christo and if they jump run like shit_
  * _latin is not as dead as it should be_
  * [collection of cut out newspaper articles and stolen library book pages ranging from possible hunts to curse wards to depression]
  * _never let sammy drink_
  * _ask bobby how to stop dad being sad_
  * [Several pages of notes, evidently taken when he forgot his school notebook and had nothing but this. Say what you wish, but Dean Winchester is a highly intelligent individual, which is clear when you see his focus in things like this.]
  * _shapeshifters hate silver_
  * _guys are okay_
  * [Exorcism pronunciation notes]
  * _take sammy to grand canyon_
  * _sammy graduation = friday @ 12_
  * [barely visible, blurred with liquid substance, presumably tears:] _He’s gone._



There ends the original extent of the journal. A few pages are skipped, a decade unaccounted for. He didn’t need to write of the years alone with his father, his disappearance, reuniting with Sam, Azazel, hell, Lucifer, the trials, everything that happened to him and Sam; he couldn’t forget if he tried. And oh, how he tried.

Then begins a new section. He has more time to write. The focus shifts from Sam to another. Not really reminders so much as a study in humanity. Things he couldn’t share with Sam, things he was too afraid to voice in fear of triggering an adverse reaction. They span pages at a time, more detailed than the previous scrawls.

It begins with _‘He fell.’_

  * _We don’t know what to do, me and Sam. We don’t know what it’s like, being human, not really. Not enough to explain to Cas how to deal with the dulled senses and heightened emotions and pure absurd humanness of it all. Not enough to make him okay._  
 _Hell, we’re hardly okay ourselves; for a while there I really thought Sam wasn’t gonna make it. But he did, and he always will. I can count on Sam. I know I can. Now._  
 _But how the hell do we help Castiel?_
  * _He barely speaks. The cut on his throat is healing fast, but it must hurt him so much. And for a creature who doesn’t know how to experience pain…  
I can’t even begin to think. _
  * _Sleeping terrifies him. He just can’t let himself shut down. Sam’s gone out to get sleeping pills, but I don’t know if they’ll work. He’s frantic, keeps pleading with me to just ‘make it stop’. It’s breaking my heart._  
 _I can’t stand the look in his eyes, but it’s Cas. I have to. He gave everything for us; I’d do anything in return._  
 _Cas, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything, please just get better, please be okay._
  * [‘ _Sorry_ ’ repeated multiple times, entire passage scored out repeatedly. Not from shame, I think, but from fear.]
  * _He still hardly speaks. There’s still a line marking where his grace was drained, but it’s not that any more. It’s not physical pain. I almost wish it was, I could help him with that. There are drugs, distractions, cures for that.  
But it’s all in his head. And I don’t know how to help him. _
  * _A bird flew past his window and he burst into tears.  
Keeping the curtains shut now. _
  * _He’s more responsive on a one-to-one basis._
  * _Convinced him to shower and change his clothes._  
 _Never thought I’d have to teach a fully grown man the difference between body wash and shampoo._  
 _He’s wandering around in an AC/DC shirt and scruffy jeans now, both mine. You should see the size of the turnups at the bottom of the jeans, man – out of the holy tax accountant getup he’s tiny._
  * _I think he’s feeling a little better. He really needs a haircut. Sam doesn’t think so, but then again, have you seen his hair?  
I don’t trust anybody with scissors near him. He might get scared. How the hell do you cut hair? _
  * _He reached into his pocket the other day and silently handed me my old amulet from Sammy. I don't know how he found it or why he kept it, but I'm so, so very glad he did. I'm never taking it off again. Hugged him and didn't let go for a long time. He seemed to cling on to it every bit as much as me.  
Sam pretended not to notice the amulet's return, but I sure as hell saw the corner of his mouth twitch and something light up behind his eyes. _
  * _He called Sam ‘Sammy’._
  * _He’s relapsed again. Won’t say a word. I’m scared for him, I’m so scared. Sam went to check on a lead in Wisconsin, it’s just the two of us now. He wanted me to go, but I can’t… I can’t leave him.  
I don’t know why I couldn’t, but I’m glad it’s me who’s with him now, even if I can’t help him. _
  * _Physical contact helps. If I hold him long enough he stops shaking. He actually fell asleep from it yesterday. Relieved doesn’t begin to cut it. It seems to help him stay okay. I think it makes him feel safe. Hell, it comforts me. I don’t know if I wanna look into that._ [Last two sentences scribbled out, had to ask for translation from source.]
  * _He had a night terror. Freaked the hell out of all three of us, but we got him calmed down eventually. He was so scared, I just climbed into bed with him and rocked him until he fell asleep, didn't even think twice.  
Sam didn't bat an eye. I think he has a better handle on me than I do at the moment. _
  * _Another terror. Not as bad as the last, but still enough to warrant him sheepishly asking to sleep with me again. Told him if it makes him feel better, there's no need to ask. I think we're now in an agreement where we just share a double whenever possible. It's nice waking up with an armful of angel and warm weight on your chest where his head's resting. And I can't stop smiling every time I go to prod him awake and he just grumbles and swats at me and tries to curl in closer.  
Turns out angels are not morning people._
  * _Sam quietly mentioned he thought this was a long time coming. He knows me too well. When asked, he just snorted. "Profound bond? Hello?"_
  * _I've missed being able to talk to Sammy. I didn't even realize it, but I did. This is the first time for years, if not ever, that we've had no skeletons in the closet or dirty little secrets. It's good to be brothers again.  
I feel like I can finally breathe after being held under water, tied to an anchor for years on end. And it gets easier to breathe every time Sam smiles and Cas laughs. _
  * _It's become some kind of unspoken agreement that Sammy goes out and takes on minor hunts while I stay back with Cas. I'm grateful for that, nothing even needing to be said. Pretty sure Cas appreciates it too. At least, I hope. Maybe I'm flattering myself. Oh well. If I won't, who will?_
  * _It's been a few weeks, but Cas is more like himself than he has been in what feels like forever._  
 _He got a little down yesterday, but then I started talking about the first thing that came into my head, which happened to be Batman, and Cas got really interested so I told him about more and more superheroes until he'd forgotten he was sad and we were running around pretending to be Batman and Robin using the motel duvets as capes._  
 _Which, of course, was exactly when Sam got back from his latest hunt, but what's a little embarrassment in the long run? Especially if it makes Cas smile._
  * _Sam stayed back with Cas while I went on a hunt. And sure, it felt good to obliterate a couple of ghouls again and let off some steam, but hell did I miss Cas. Sam, too, but I’m used to that. This thing with Cas, whatever it is, it might not be new, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to it.  
In a good way, of course. His face lighting up when I got back to the room sang testimony to that._
  * _We totally did not spend the weekend watching Jurassic Park and Star Wars in a blanket fort._  
 _And I did not get beaten to within an inch of my life during a pillow fight with my ape of a brother and favorite angel whilst in said blanket fort._  
 _And I'm not slowly losing my mind bit by bit. At all._  
 _Nope, that stuff, none of it just happened._
  * _Cas keeps laughing because feathers from an exploded pillow from the fight that did not happen keep turning up everywhere.  
Not complaining though, because he's made it a personal mission of his to find and collect all of them and reconstruct his own Franken-pillow, and maybe that does involve intrusions of personal space bubbles that I no longer really have any issues with while he plucks the pieces of destroyed comfiness out of my hair and clothing. _
  * _At some point I turned into a teenage girl and started using this as a diary and I feel like I should be ashamed of that fact but simply cannot bring myself to care. Besides, it's a lot easier than bottling things up, if I'm being perfectly honest._  
 _Seeing things written down makes them look more easy to deal with. Like, make a mistake in pencil and you can erase it, right? I dunno._  
 _Anyway, better go: Cas is making pancakes and I have to supervise closely to make sure nothing vital catches fire._  
 _Like, y'know,_ him.
  * _I'm gonna tell him. I have to. He has the right to know. I don't even care if he feels the same, I just need him to know that somebody will always be here for him. No matter what. Forever. That word should scare me, it always has before, but it doesn't now._  
 _Because it's Cas._  
 _And he is my forever._
  * _Sometimes things just turn out far better than you expect._  
 _I chickened out. I couldn't think of a way to bring it up, words to use, a way to convey to him everything I've written in here and everything I don't have the nerves to even write._  
 _We were watching some movie on the couch and he fell asleep against me, head in my lap. So I figured, now or never, and just went for it, hoping I'd feel better for it._  
 _What did I say? I can't remember all of it, but it was all true._  
 _Whispered it right in his ear, stroking his hair. That I didn't know how to say it, that it felt like it'd always been there, that I'd only actually been ready to acknowledge it once I thought I was gonna lose him forever._  
 _"I don't care what you are. Wingless, graceless, cursed, whatever. You'll always be an angel to me."_  
 _And then I leaned in and kissed him right on the cheek, because he is so beautiful, I couldn't not._  
 _And then, guess what?_  
 _He opened his eyes, those stupid, gorgeous, multi-faceted jewels of pure blue staring right at me, only centimeters away._  
 _"Dean." That was it, that was all he needed to say._  
 _I have to tell you, when I figured he was awake I'd been prepared for a lot of things: embarrassment, awkwardness, disgust, pity, and above all, rejection. But the one thing I hadn't expected? Pure, honest reciprocation._  
 _Never in my life has anybody smiled at me like that until now, or kissed me the way he did. Does._  
 _I'm... I'm getting a little giddy, I'm gonna stop writing now. But before I go, have this; a drawing of how it feels to kiss your soulmate:_ [large, exaggerated scribble of nonsense, containing several lovehearts and more than a few exclamation marks]
  * _Just remembered that a while back Sam jokingly said that I hang out with Cas too much because I'd started using fancy words.  
Reading over that last page, and '_ multi-faceted jewels of pure blue _'? He may be on to something._
  * [Sloppily written, alcohol fueled handwriting] _I've never really been the romantic type but I really like holding his hand and wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his hair and making him laugh and kissing him and falling asleep with him and watching movies with him and showing him how to be human and I think he's making me into a romantic and I don't even care I'm too happy I honestly don't care_
  * [Little arrow pointing to previous entry] _gay._
  * _He kissed the bridge of my nose and I started laughing because he was literally giving me angel kisses. He then gave me the most predatory look in the history of the world and said he was going to change the meaning of the phrase and proceeded to render me totally incapable of laughing for the next hour._
  * _I can't even explain how deliriously happy it makes me to see Cas wandering around in my clothes. The grunge rock look suits him. He wrinkled his nose at that and protested that he was totally clean and not grungy in the slightest.  
I could hear Sam laughing from the other room as I tried to explain the concept of music genres to him. _
  * _Sam keeps shooting me sappy looks. I swear to god I'm gonna blow bubblegum into his hair._
  * _Started hunting again. Single vampire, just to ease me and Cas into it. Just like riding a bike, man. We never lost it. Although, Cas doesn't actually know how to ride a bike. I've promised to teach him._
  * _Summer's come early and in a bout of sheer insanity we all donned shorts and fled to the beach and honestly it's been one of the best days of my life._  
 _Sam kept getting hit on by elderly ladies and chased around by little kids._  
 _Cas didn't want to get his hair wet so, being the asshole I am, I tackled him into the water and dragged him around until he was soaked. I kissed him while he was down and he tasted of salt and sun and happiness and the look on his face made my entire life up til that point completely and utterly worth it, every single bit of it._  
 _Sam yelled at us to get a room which somehow led to a sandcastle building competition because we're apparently all five years old. Cas couldn't get the hang of it at first, but then once he got the right ratio of sand to water he was off making a scale model of the Roman Coliseum, to the delight of many other beach goers._  
 _We all got ice cream and Cas didn't seem to grasp the concept of 'eat it before it melts' and so ended up covered in the stuff and looking extremely bewildered and quite frankly adorable. I licked some of it off his nose and Sam pretended to throw up._  
 _By the time we got back to the hotel we'd splashed out for it was as much as I could do to tangle myself up in the covers with my now ice cream-free other half and succumb to exhaustion._
  * _We're gonna start looking for his grace soon. But not as a priority, and he's even said he's not sure he wants it back. I assured him that being an angel wouldn't change anything, and even if we did find it he wouldn't have to change back if he still didn't want to. We'd just keep it safe for him._  
 _He smiled gratefully at that and took my hand, in his silent way of saying he'd think about it._  
 _I wasn't lying. I don't care what he is, as long as he's Cas, and he's here, and he doesn't leave._
  * _It’s been a year._  
 _A butterfly landed on his coat yesterday, and you know what he did?_  
 _He smiled at it, admiring it, and said, “I’m glad somebody still has beautiful wings.”_  
 _I glanced at him warily. “They don’t make you sad any more, buddy?”_  
 _He shook his head, laughed. “Wings? No. They’re no longer the most beautiful thing in my world.”_  
 _Part of me wants to say that I punched him for being girly. But the part that loves him too much is bigger by far. The part that realizes the truth in what he said; that things have come into being in the past twelve months that have overshadowed everything, that will continue to outshine all obstacles. I know how he feels, because I'm the same._  
 _With him, I can do anything._  
 _That’s a good thing. I get that now. And he gets that he will always be my angel. That he was never really anybody else’s; they were just keepin’ him for me. And that? That’s all I really need._  
 _So this is it, I’m gonna stop writing now, for good; just don’t need it any more. Dunno what I’ll do with this. Burn it, throw it away, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to hide stuff anymore. I’ve got Cas. I’ve got Sammy back. They care, they do, I know that now._  
 _I guess I always did, really._  
 _Actually, you know what? I’ll show this to Cas, if he wants to see it._  
 _So here buddy; this is how a crummy human fell for a fallen angel. In fragments, maybe, but still. I want you to see it._  
 _Wait, I do have one last thing to say._  
 _I can’t say it out loud, never have been able to, but it’s every bit as true written as it is said._  
 _I love you, Cas. So very much._



And I you, Dean.   
So very much.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Moral of the story?  
> Don't give Cas your diary; he /will/ annotate it.
> 
> Thanks for reading, welp.


End file.
